Sacrifice (Crave (Quality)) Page 7

  “Why don’t you have any collections of crap stored in here?” she whispered, reaching for the locket around her neck.

  “These vampires are young,” Sam said. “Their childhoods haven’t disintegrated yet.”

  Shay snorted with laughter. “I don’t think a single one of them is under a hundred years old.”

  “Vampire time. A century is nothing,” Sam told her. “It was barely even the Renaissance when I was born. You try carting around a collection of doggy statuettes for that long.”

  “Doggy statuettes?” Shay grinned and rolled onto her side to look at him.

  He wasn’t there. Of course he wasn’t there. Her father was long gone, and she’d never met him. He wouldn’t just show up in the basement of a bat laboratory in Tennessee. Gabriel had told her that once Sam left the family, he never contacted them again.

  So now she was hallucinating. Well, at least it was new. The fatigue and the cold dizzy feelings, those were familiar from her long illness. She’d never been quite this exhausted and weak before, but the symptoms themselves hadn’t changed. Seeing things, though, that was a surprise.

  He felt real, Shay thought sadly. He felt just like he did when I had visions of Gabriel’s life. He seemed like the Sam I saw through Gabriel’s eyes.

  “This is appalling,” a sharp voice said, cutting through the haze in Shay’s brain. “How dare you touch our things?”

  Shay didn’t have the energy to move. She just gazed up at Tamara, confused. “You have me locked up in a room without even giving me water, and you think I have a lot of nerve?” she asked, her voice coming out in a croak.

  Tamara snatched up the china dolls and shoved them back into their pillowcase.

  “I’m looking for my father’s things,” Shay said. “I have a right to them.”

  Tamara frowned. “You’ll find nothing of his here. This room stores our family’s belongings. Your father isn’t in that category.”

  “He was with Ernst even before Gabriel. He was part of the original family in Greece,” Shay protested. “He’s more a part of this family than you are.”

  “Sam betrayed us,” Tamara barked. “If I could wipe his memory from my mind, I would.”

  She stormed out of the room, or at least Shay assumed she did. It was too much trouble to turn her head enough to watch Tamara leave.

  Gabriel didn’t tell me much about her, Shay thought idly. Maybe he doesn’t like her much. Millie seems a lot less prickly.

  It was odd, seeing these people with her own eyes. In all her visions of Gabriel’s life, she hadn’t gotten much sense of his family. Not this family, anyway. She’d seen his early life in Greece, and she’d experienced the horror of the massacre that killed his original vampire family. There had been Sam. And Ernst, always Ernst. Those were the two who showed up again and again. The only member of his American vampire family that Shay had gotten a vision of was Millie.

  Maybe there was some kind of guiding principle to the visions I saw, she thought. I didn’t notice a pattern then, but maybe I only saw visions of things that were most important to Gabriel, events and people that he was most attached to.

  “He told you that you didn’t have the complete picture of his life,” Sam said. “Gabriel told you that you’d glimpsed only tiny pieces, not his whole self.”

  “I know,” Shay murmured, too tired to tell her father that he was imaginary. Besides, it was nice to have someone to talk to. “I guess he was right. I was surprised by how modern he seemed when I finally met him, and he was all ‘I am modern, crazy girl.’”

  Sam laughed, the same warm laugh she’d heard in her visions of Gabriel’s life. Sam had been some strange cross between big brother, best friend, and surrogate father to Gabriel. That’s what he was now, to Shay.

  “You know, it would’ve been more useful if I had gotten visions of Gabriel’s modern life,” Shay said. “If I’d seen Richard and Tamara, and the way Ernst really is now. . . .”

  “You would have refused to come anywhere near here,” Sam said.

  “Yeah. If I’d known how much they hate you, I would have realized that they wouldn’t welcome me.”

  Sam sighed. “Even Gabriel didn’t realize that. Perhaps because even after everything that happened, he still managed to love me enough to want to keep my daughter safe.”

  “He was in denial about how Ernst and the others would feel,” Shay said. “Believe me, I know denial. My mom has spent my whole life in denial about my disease—she would never admit to herself that I was terminal.”

  Sam was silent. Shay took a deep breath, or at least as deep a breath as she could. There seemed to be a permanent block in her lungs now, something that kept her from drawing in enough air. Maybe that’s why she was hallucinating. She didn’t have to look to know that Sam was gone again.

  Not that he’d ever really been there.

  “I guess I can give up on searching for any more of your stuff,” she said aloud. “Tamara told me there wouldn’t be any.”

  The box with the locket was hidden, Sam’s thought seemed to say. Or maybe it was Shay’s own thought. She couldn’t tell anymore. It was hidden away so none of the other vampires could find it. So Ernst couldn’t find it.

  “So it’s true. You’ve plundered our possessions,” Ernst said.

  Shay opened her eyes, squinting against the light. Ernst hadn’t been there a second ago. “Are you another hallucination?” she asked.

  “Hardly.” His voice was clipped, but not angry.

  She wanted to ask him how Gabriel was, but she knew that was ridiculous. If they’d managed to convince Ernst that Gabriel was returning her to her prison the night before, showing any concern for Gabriel now would only make him suspicious again.

  Shay tried to move, to sit up. It felt wrong to lie down while her main captor watched. She should show more strength, more defiance. But she couldn’t even lift her head.

  “I’m worse than I was when Tamara was here,” she murmured. “I must’ve fallen asleep. How long has it been? Is it daytime again—is that why it’s you and not one of the others?”

  “I’m not here to answer your questions,” Ernst said.

  Shay closed her eyes again. Maybe she’d drift back to sleep and he would be gone when she woke up again. If she woke up again.

  A cool, wet sensation wormed its way through her lips, into her mouth. Shay choked, coughing, as the water hit her throat. She sputtered, then swallowed. It had been so long since she’d drunk that her body didn’t feel sure what to do.

  Ernst frowned, then reached over and grabbed her under the arms, hauling her to an upright position. He leaned her back against one of the shelves so that she was sitting up and held out a water bottle.

  Shay reached for it. She could swear she did. But her hands stayed where they were, down at her sides. Not even a single finger twitched.

  “Sorry. Guess I’m too far gone,” she croaked. It was weird how she didn’t care. Caring took energy, and she had none left.

  Ernst rolled his eyes. He knelt down and held the bottle up to her lips, tilting it so more water ran into her mouth. This time her throat remembered how to swallow, and she drank eagerly—until he pulled the bottle away.

  I’m not saying thank you, she thought.

  “Just like your father. Petulant,” Ernst said.

  Shay felt a stab of surprise. It wasn’t what she had expected to hear. “I never saw Sam acting petulant.”

  Now Ernst looked surprised. “You never saw him, period.”

  “I did. In my visions. When my stepfather gave me transfusions of Gabriel’s blood, I experienced parts of Gabriel’s life,” Shay said. She decided not to mention the visions she had when she was actually drinking from Gabriel, her mouth on his skin, his blood warm in her throat. Those visions were even more immediate, more intense.

  Ernst’s lip curled in disgust. “Everything about you is wrong,” he muttered.

  Shay shrugged, or tried to. “I saw Sam through Gabriel’s e
yes. If it’s all I’ll ever get of my father, I’ll take it. I don’t care if you think it’s wrong.”

  “There are no visions. We don’t have visions.” Ernst practically spat the words out.

  “Well, I do,” she replied. “I think it’s like the rush of emotions you get from a Giver when you drink from them. Except my Giver was a vampire, and I’m half vampire, so it . . . changed . . . somehow. It became more clear, less a jumble of feelings.”

  Ernst was staring at her now, as if she were some rare and dangerous—and revolting—animal. A snake or a Komodo dragon. Something fascinating and sickening all at once.

  “I drank from a Giver in my very first vision,” she explained. “I mean, Gabriel drank, but I experienced his memory as if it were happening for the first time. I was Gabriel, and I was feeding, and I got a rush of sensations from the Giver. And you were there, telling me when to stop.”

  Ernst drew in a breath, the air hissing through his teeth.

  “I loved you. Gabriel did, and I felt it,” Shay went on. “I saw you in a lot of visions. You were like a father. Sometimes you scared me, but mostly I loved you. I didn’t expect you to be such an ass in real life.”

  Ernst backed away from her, his forehead furrowed. “I shouldn’t have come down here,” he said. “I shouldn’t have allowed my curiosity to get the better of me.”

  Shay barely heard him. Her mind had gotten stuck on the thought of Gabriel, of the way it felt to be in his body when she had a vision. Which led to the memory of the way it felt to be in his arms the night before they came here. She missed him. It was like a physical ache.

  She began to ask about him, even though she knew she shouldn’t. But Ernst was already on his way out, the door slamming behind him.

  Shay’s gaze went to the water bottle, on the floor near her hand. She stretched out her fingers as far as she could, but the movement threw her off balance. She collapsed to the ground, not even able to catch herself with her arms. Her head hit the hard concrete, and darkness exploded through her brain, warring with jagged edges of light.

  The darkness won.

  Is this it? Shay’s thought asked.

  But Sam wasn’t there to answer her. And neither was Gabriel, even though it was him she wanted most of all.

  “You’re seething. Try to calm down,” Millie said, taking Gabriel’s hand.

  “We’re no better than Martin. He treated me like a lab rat. We’re treating Shay like a worm on a hook.” Gabriel looked around the common room, and it didn’t seem like home. More like a jail. All night long, they’d kept him here. Talking about the bats and their disease. Watching stupid TV. Sometimes just sitting there in awkward silence. But always, always pretending that Gabriel was still a family member, not a prisoner.

  “Would it really be so bad to give her some food or blood? The meeting with Martin isn’t until tomorrow night,” Millie said softly. “I know we’re . . . I know what’s planned, but that doesn’t mean she should be starved.”

  Starved. The word made Gabriel want to run to Shay and kick down the door. But if he’d gotten up, made a move toward the stairs, his brothers and sisters would’ve tackled him. They were going to keep him away from Shay, no matter what. As much as they could feel his anger, he could feel their determination to follow Ernst’s order.

  “Her stepfather starved Gabriel. Why should we be any different?” Tamara said dismissively.

  Gabriel slammed his fist against the hard wood of the coffee table. “So we’re no better than him?”

  No one answered.

  “What will we do when the death sleep comes?” Luis murmured to Richard. “We can’t guard him then. And with the way he feels for her, he can’t be trusted.”

  “I’ll be asleep too,” Gabriel said. “And no doubt Ernst will sit there and watch me like he did yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry,” Luis told him. “I didn’t mean for you to hear.”

  “My senses are as strong as ever, brother,” Gabriel replied. “Just because I’ve been through something terrible doesn’t make me less of a vampire.”

  “Gabriel . . .” Millie’s voice trailed off. Gabriel squeezed her hand. He knew she wanted to comfort him, but what was there to say?

  “This is making me crazy,” Richard exploded suddenly. “How can you be so upset about a halfblood? I feel your hatred—and it’s aimed at your own family!”

  “Because my family is acting like a bunch of strangers,” Gabriel shot back, jumping to his feet. “Shay saved my life. Why doesn’t that mean anything to you? What kind of people are you?”

  “The kind who protect our own,” Tamara shot back. “And you’re such a hypocrite! Thinking you’re in love with a human. You’re the one—”

  “I’ve learned that humans aren’t all the same,” Gabriel cut her off. “Some of them are decent, loving people—”

  “Enough!” Luis shouted, shocking them all. He never raised his voice, and he looked just as surprised as everyone else that he’d done it now.

  “Please, I don’t want us to fight,” Millie said in the silence. “The family felt broken when you were gone, Gabriel. We should be happy now, not arguing all the time.”

  “Do you really expect me to be happy when you’re acting like a bunch of thugs?” Gabriel snapped, letting go of her hand.

  They all stared at him for a moment, then Millie sighed. “Martin is the one who should be punished. The girl, Shay, she did save our brother’s life.” She looked from Luis to Richard to Tamara. “Doesn’t she deserve to live for that alone? Not here, but somewhere? If she were going to betray us, why would she have—”

  “He’s poisoned your mind,” Richard snapped.

  “You’ve always had a tender heart,” Luis told Millie. “But it’s naive to—”

  “Don’t be so condescending, Luis,” Millie shot back. “You’re ten years older than I am. Ten. That’s nothing to us. It’s a blink. Just because I’m daring to disagree doesn’t mean I’m softheaded.”

  Gabriel was grateful to Millie for being open-minded enough to see beyond the hatred for humans she’d been taught. He could feel how much it hurt her to go up against the family. She’d always been the peacemaker.

  “I thought you just said we should all be happy and not arguing,” Tamara pointed out, raising one eyebrow.

  “Isn’t it almost day?” Richard ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t take his anger anymore.”

  “How do you think I feel?” Gabriel cried. Their anger, confusion, pain, and feelings of betrayal were constantly bombarding him.

  “It won’t last much longer.” Ernst stood just inside the doorway, his face pale and drawn. “Dawn approaches. When we wake tonight, it will be time to spring our trap.”

  “Are we all going to Asheville?” Millie asked hopefully.

  “No. Gabriel and I will go alone.” Ernst’s eyes found Gabriel’s, and he smiled ever so slightly.

  Gabriel felt a wave of shock and anger from Richard. Millie and Luis turned toward him, but Gabriel kept his eyes on Ernst. “Together we’ll avenge you, my son,” Ernst told him.

  “What about the halfblood?” Richard spat. “You can’t be in the car alone with Gabriel, not if she’s there too. He’ll try to save her.”

  “I just left her. She won’t make it through the day,” Ernst said.

  Gabriel staggered backward as if he’d been punched.

  “You said the woman wouldn’t come unless the halfblood was there,” Tamara said. Her voice sounded distant, lost amid the horror rushing through Gabriel’s mind. Shay . . .

  “If she dies during the day, we’ll put her body in the car. That will be enough to lure the woman,” Ernst said.

  “No.” The moan felt as if it came from Gabriel’s gut.

  “Ernst, that’s cruel.” Millie wrapped her arms around Gabriel as if she were trying to hold him together, but she didn’t repeat her plea for mercy. “You can’t expect him to sit in a car with . . .”

  With Shay, Gabriel fi
nished silently. Shay, dead.

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  “GABRIEL! GABRIEL, WAKE UP!”

  It was Ernst’s voice, sharp with urgency. The cave had been invaded. The smell of blood, his family’s blood, filled his nose and mouth and throat, suffocating him.

  “Gabriel, I need you!” The sun was still up. Gabriel could feel it filtering into his nightmare of the massacre, that terrible day when Ernst had woken him to the smell of death. His brothers and sisters. Lysander. Philo. Lizette.

  “Gabriel, now!”

  Hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him up from his cot. Gabriel forced his eyelids open. Not a dream. Ernst was here, waking him in the middle of the day, just as he had all those years ago, in the caves in Greece.

  Gabriel tried to focus, tried to ignore the feel of the sun sapping his strength. He forced his eyes open. “What is it?” he asked, trying to shake off the remnants of his dream.

  “The alarm’s been triggered,” Ernst replied. “Someone’s coming.”

  Gabriel stared at him stupidly, trying to force the words to make sense. He felt so . . . heavy.

  “Protect the others,” Ernst ordered, yanking Gabriel to his feet. “I’m going up front to see what’s happening.”

  Ernst tugged Gabriel’s arm, pulling him roughly out to the common room.

  “Gabriel.” The word was a question.

  “I’m awake,” Gabriel said. “Go.”

  Ernst took off toward the hallway at a speed no human could match, vanishing in less than a second. Gabriel drew in a breath, convincing himself that he was actually standing upright, shaking off the death sleep for the second time in two days. It was disorienting, and his body trembled with the shock of it.

  A blaring siren wormed its way into his awareness, loud enough that it hurt his eardrums. Loud enough to wake the dead, Gabriel thought ruefully. But it wouldn’t have woken him, not on its own.

  “The alarm is triggered from two miles away,” he said out loud, even though his voice was lost in the blaring Klaxon. The physical act of speaking forced his mind to work through the fog. “From the base of the hill.”